Imagine Story: Being In Love With Dean Winchester
by thedoctorandroseee
Summary: Imagine Story: You are travelling with the Winchesters, after a particularly hard hunt Dean reveals something you've been longing to hear.


|| Imagine Dean is shaken up after a really physically and mentally draining hunt when a close shave with a demon nearly flawed you. It's your job to reassure him that you're okay.

The door of the Impala slammed shut with a loud 'bang' and Dean stalked inside, a look in his green flashing eyes that screamed 'do not mess'. You glance over to Sam and he shrugs, he starts walking past you but stops abruptly to ruffle your hair. As you screw your nose up in annoyance and try to smooth your hair, Sam gives you a wide smile, "You did good today Y/N. Dean may not be acting grateful right now but believe me, he is." Sam turns to walk away but you grab his sleeve and pull him back lightly, "Sam why is he being like this?"  
Sam exhales heavily and looks you in the eye, "Let's just say seeing you this badly hurt wasn't nice for us both. Dean's just become really attached to you I guess." You smile weakly and apologetically up at him and let go of his sleeve. You hadn't meant for the hunt to go so dramatically wrong, if you were being honest with yourself, the thought of death didn't scare you, it was the thought of being without Sam and Dean. Brushing back the tears that were forming in your eyes you moved to the trunk of the Impala to collect your rucksacks. When you tried to lift them a sharp pain travels up from your spine and pierces your elbow. "Argh." you stutter, dropping the rucksack. "Well done Y/N trust you to be the one who gets injured like this." You breathe, shaking your head. You almost call Dean to help you, but the syllables die in your throat. Did he even want you around anyway after today's events?  
You decide your best option is to just drag the bags up to the motel door, there wasn't anything in there that could easily break.

You nudge the door open a crack with your foot, and you peer inside to see Dean sat head in hands on a rickety wooden kitchen chair and Sam pottering about in the cupboard opposite. "I coulda' lost her Sammy." Dean murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "And it would have all been my fault…" he trails off and a second later bangs his fist down hard on the table top. "Sam I'm sick of it! I just want to fucking die y'know? All the pain we've caused and all the loss we've been through it's overwhelming ugh… god."

You've never seen Dean like this before, and it outright breaks your heart. He also wasn't dying anytime any time soon you'd make sure of that. "Uh, a little help please?" You rasp, throat suddenly dry. You hear Sam cracking open a drink and see Dean straightening up from the chair and walk towards the door.

"Aw sweetheart you didn't need to bring them in…." You smile at him even though right now it feels like your right arm could drop off at any moment. You let out a small grunt of pain and Dean's expression softens. " Y/N C'mere, let me get that. Your arm broken?" You bite your lip and try to flex it, god it hurts, but you can't see any fractures so you shake your head. The concern in his eyes makes you want to scream out that you're fine and probably just need a drink and a long sleep.

A little while later Sam had gone to bed and his rhythmic snoring could be heard through the thin walls of the motel room. Dean had been sat in the same upright position for an hour. "Dean?" You say timidly, looking at his rigid frame. He seems to ease at the sound of your voice and turns his head to look at you. "Hm?" God he's beautiful, you almost sigh, then realize you've probably been staring at his face for longer than acceptable. A blush taking over your features you look down at the floor. "Do you… do you… hate me?" You manage to mumble into the sleeve of your torn sweater. All of a sudden you're aware of his presence next to you. "God damn it Y/N. I could never hate you." Dean pulls you gently into his muscular side, which is radiating warmth that you are eternally grateful for. "In fact um…" You notice the tips of his ears have gone a shade of scarlet. "What Dean?" You ask, daring to look into those hypnotic green eyes of his. "I don't think I should say Y/N. It might make things a lot more complicated."  
"C'mon don't leave me hanging!" Folding your arms you snuggle deeper into his chiseled arms.

When you awake you find that Dean isn't where you left him, a jolt of fear courses through you. What if the Winchesters have left? Panic takes over and you knock into the coffee table whilst fumbling around, unable to properly stand. Looking down to move it out of the way you see a folded piece of paper tucked underneath a used mug. That wasn't there yesterday… Was it? Hang on, it said your name on it. Oh god. They had left after all. You feel numb all over as you register the situation completely. The tears are coming thick and fast, except this time there is no temptation to wipe them away. "Better see what excuse they gave." You mumble, retrieving the note from under the mug.

"Y/N,

I'm in love with you.  
(No really.)

Dean."

You rest your head on your chin, utterly stunned. Was that all you had left of them? A stupid little note. You clutch it to your chest and curl up into a tight ball on the couch. Facing the day and it's toils is something that's not on the top of your priority list. Telling Dean you feel the same is number one.

An hour later the door opens slowly, and you awaken drowsily, and stare at the door. Hoping to see the man you want most in the universe.

Your breath catches in your throat as a very familiar voice calls your name. Jumping up from the sofa and ignoring the pain coursing through all your sore limbs you run straight into Dean's embrace. He smells like leather, pine and cheap soap. "I thought you'd left you bastards!" You hiss disapprovingly into his shoulder. "I would never ever do that to you Y/N… Uh, get my note?" Dean has come over all bashful, playing with your hair nonchalantly.

"All I can say is why the hell are you in love with me Dean when you could get anyone you gosh darn wanted." He laughs and shakes his head, "You don't get it, I don't want no one else. I got you Y/N. That's enough for me." Without another word he brings his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel the flutter of his eyelashes on your cheek. You can't stand it anymore, and press your lips to his. Melting into him as soon as they collide, the kiss is soft and delicate. When you both come up for air, you brush a stray hair from your forehead awkwardly and whisper, "I love you Dean, and if you ever doubt it then I might have to kill you."

|| I haven't done one of these before, and i don't know if it's any good… Probably not but oh well I enjoyed writing it anyway.


End file.
